


Butterfly Effect

by okaywhateverokayyes



Category: Animal Kingdom (TV)
Genre: Adrian's POV, Best Friends, First Meetings, Friends to Lovers, Green Eyes, Humour, M/M, One-Shot, Post-A Friend In Need, Pre-Canon, Pre-Season 1, Strangers to Friends, implicit violence, teenage boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-23
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2019-05-27 06:14:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15018434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/okaywhateverokayyes/pseuds/okaywhateverokayyes
Summary: Adrian knows what to expect. He's used to this-the fighting, the chaos-What he doesn't realize is that this time, there's this kid with a smug grin, sandy blonde hair and a pompous attitude, waiting to help him. No questions asked.Or the story as to how Adrian and Deran first meet.





	Butterfly Effect

**Author's Note:**

> Hi. Hello. Here we go. 
> 
> I'm always curious as to how the boys met so this was my attempt at.
> 
> Nothing says AK like a fight so that's the premise of their first meeting.
> 
> They are just young boys, who unbeknownst to them, had an encounter that inextricably ties them together.

“What, are you- _deaf_?”

 

Adrian immediately realizes his danger as he sputters, and leans back as far as his chair would allow him to.

 

Words were tricky, elusive. There was no right way of saying something. Yet, he always found himself spewing the wrong thing, as if there was no another way he could have put it.

 

The guy swerves his head calmly, his eyes ironically frantic as if he too was aware of what’s to come.

 

“ _Dude_ ,” his attention is back on Adrian, and this time, he grips the corners of the desk, leveling himself until they’re both staring at each other.

 

The silence that ensues is deafening.

 

He’s not sure if it’s his own labored breathing or _his_ , but it saws through.

 

Adrian knows he should just say something- _anything_ yet his jaw stays shut because the guy’s gaze is piercing, inquisitive but if he were to look at anywhere but his eyes, he wears a blank expression that makes it all seem like a misconception.

 

It’s only for a while, before he pulls back, crosses his hands indifferently across his chest. He looks smug so Adrian’s surprised when he says:

 

“Deran.” He offers, with a thin smile. The guy- _Deran_ \- shifts in his spot, arches his brow as he grins even wider.

 

 _He’s proud_ , Adrian realizes.

 

 _He’s proud of his name_?

 

Adrian blinks.

 

Deran wrinkles his face, lips chapped as he whispers, “ _Shit_.” He fumbles around in the pockets of his cargos, runs his hand over his sweatshirt, stops as he pulls out his what he’s looking for.

 

It’s his phone.

 

He flips it open, gliding his hands across the key in three quick strides before he turns the bright screen to face Adrian.

 

I’m Deran.

 

He’s back to typing something else. This time, he’s glued to the screen as he bites at his lip. Once in a while, his gaze is back on the door farthest to them, gives a quick glance before he’s glancing down.

 

Adrian on the other hand, has his eyes glued. Waits to hear anything else other than their now, even breaths. He notices that the hallway is dimly-lit, with the brim of the door casting a shadow narrowly down the corridor.

 

If anyone were to come, he’d be able to _see_.

 

Adrian stumbles in his spot when there’s a flashing light right in the center of his periphery. He hovers his hands over his forehead as he blinks.

 

 _Right_ , cellphone.

 

The words first appear faint.

 

“Oh-“ Deran says, placing the phone on the desk, “My bad, dude.”

 

Adrian takes a moment. He peers back up at Deran, seeing written clearly across his expressive eyes the picture of exasperation-mostly which he directs at himself as he continues to mutter under his breath: ‘he can’t hear you, you fucking schmuck’-

 

There’s also concern.

 

Adrian looks away at the sight.

 

 _It doesn’t suit him_.

 

You owe me a burrito.

 

He has to read it again.

 

You owe me a burrito.

 

Deran’s eyes are on him when he glances up. He’s smiling again. He raises his hand in the air as he starts to flick them open one by one before dramatically twisting them until he closes his hand into a tight fist.

 

He pumps it in the air, swooshes it to his sides, adds voiceovers as if his swings weren’t already cutting through the quiet room.

 

“I can handle those pricks,” he shrugs dismissively, “My brother says to aim for the jugular.” Deran says as he aims at the ground.

He continues to jab with every ounce of creativity.

 

Adrian has to look away as he stifles a snort.

 

 _He doesn’t know where that is_.

 

But it’s futile-his efforts to conceal-

 

Adrian rubs his face with his hands as he lets out a chortle that swallows the room. It ricochets off of the walls and runs down the corridor.

 

Deran has his hand mid-air as he frowns. “ _What_?” he asks, void of any malice, “that’s funny?” He looks at his hands, flips them over as he gives it a quick look-over.

 

Adrian’s nodding as he hides his face behind his hands.

 

His cheeks feel warm. He relaxes in his chair as he lurches forward, the sight of Deran’s sluggishness causes him to heave.

 

 _He doesn’t know what the jugular is_.

 

“ _Dude_.” This time, Deran sounds offended.

 

Adrian forces one hand off his face as he waves it apologetically.

 

“Sorry,” he’s able to make out with every raspy exhale. “I didn’t mean that.” He says, unconvincingly.

 

Deran’s voice is sharp as he shouts: “You can talk!” It’s rhetorical.

 

Adrian drops his other hand as he wipes his nose against the sleeve of his shirt. His eyes start to moisten, so he rubs at them haphazardly.

 

“Yeah,” Adrian admits, catching his breath, “Sorry about that.”

 

Deran’s quick as he leans forward, elbow holding his chin up as he glares at him once more. It catches Adrian offguard, because _shit_ - _he’s really close_.

 

And his eyes-

 

They’re not the same color.

 

They’re almost green.

 

_Woah._

 

Adrian can do nothing but stare.

 

 _Wow_.

 

Something comes over him when instinctively, Adrian raises his hand, stretches his palm out in front of them, hovers it right in front of Deran’s pupils. He lets his hand hang, mid-air, feels the urge to just-

 

 _Shit_.

 

-Touch.

 

Deran watches him with curiosity. He’s still as Adrian inches forward, doesn’t even blink when Adrian approaches him.

 

“Your eyes-“

 

Deran gives him a dry look.

 

“Yah. Yah. They do that,” Deran tilts his head towards the hallway, where there’s a slight tinge of clear light that crescents his pupils.

 

They’re hazel now.

 

“Weird right?”

 

Adrian shakes his head, knows that Deran can’t see because he’s now focused on tilting his head in all angles. Even though he’s not able to see what Adrian can, he’s just merely amused with entertaining the thought of what his eyes are able to do.

 

“They’re _awesome_.”

 

Deran stills.

 

It’s brief, the way Deran clamps down on his jaw, parses his lips, breath hitching in his throat.

 

Adrian sinks a bit, losing his glare as he regains his awkward, somewhat miserable expression.

 

“Sorry,” he says, knows how it might have sounded, keen on not wanting to make the guy uncomfortable, “Forget I said that.”

 

Deran resumes his blank look, just as quickly as the words get past Adrian’s lips.

Deran inclines his head, posture straightening somewhat before his back is to Adrian as he retreats toward the door. His steps are calculated, his demeanor collected.

 

It really was strange, how Deran’s able to do that. Make it seem as if whatever had just happened, had not happened. If it weren’t for the fact that as Deran hovered closer to the door, the dimly lit light hanging off the ceiling casted against his face, his pupils’ hues shifting from one to another-

 

Adrian wouldn’t have believed it otherwise.

 

His ears perk when there’s faint footsteps down the corridor.

 

They both whip their head in the same direction.

 

Adrian’s not able to see what Deran is able to, but as Deran pulls the sleeves of his sweatshirt to his elbows, rakes his hand through his hair-

 

Adrian stands.

 

“Yeah-“ Deran’s voice is pointed, as if knows what’s to come, “Make that three burritos.”

 

 


End file.
